


Predator

by WingedPanther73



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 14:32:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3732415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingedPanther73/pseuds/WingedPanther73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Corey learns that he's not a hemopheliac. Instead, he's... different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Corey awoke to the ungodly sound of his mom juicing vegetables. Again. _It's Saturday, and I can't sleep in because she's making whatever juice mix she found on the web last night._ He rolled over, trying to resist waking up, but the noise sounded like a vacuum choking on gravel. _No sleep, I guess._

He dragged his scrawny frame out of bed and padded into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He swiped shaggy, brown hair out of his face while he brushed. _Why can't she just let me sleep in? Just once, I'd like to wake up to a sound other than a thousand watts of pasting veggies._ He glanced at his face, a weird shade of blueish-brown eyes gazing back at him.

It only took a couple minutes to throw on some clothes and pad downstairs. His mom was a strong, wiry woman with shoulder-length dark hair. He saw a cucumber going down into the machine, a trickle of liquid coming out one end as a pale green paste flew out the other. _Looks like the 'bread' is gonna taste like cukes today. Yuck._ He moved around her, pulling down the rolled oats and flax seed 'cereal' he'd eaten every morning for the last fifteen years.

He drizzled water over it and popped it in the microwave. “Morning, Mom,” he mumbled.

“Hey, Corey! Ready for your juice?”

He eyed it skeptically. “No jalapeños?”

“Not this morning. Did you miss them?”

“No, I prefer it plain.” _Why can't I just eat normal food?_

“Okay, dear.” She poured him a glass of the sickly, green drink. “Here you go, drink up!”

He pulled out the hot cereal and took the glass. _Flavorless breakfast with a glass of,_ he sipped the drink, _celery, cucumber, tomato, and...,_ he sipped again, _carrots. Better than the jalapeño, eggplant, and zucchini from yesterday._ The breakfast filled his belly, but did little else for him.

With breakfast done, he went back to his room to study. His mom was adamant that he get good grades. After the 'incident' in third grade, she didn't let him out of the house much, anyway. He cracked open his books, studying English and math 

As he worked, he found himself wondering why his mom kept feeding him the bland food. He figured it was the diet that made him so scrawny. He didn't know for sure, of course, but his mom was real thin, too. His mind drifted back to the time when he'd been in third grade and had 'the incident'.

His friends offered him a burger. He'd refused, at first, like his mom taught him. When they started eating and making such a big deal about how _good_ they were and how _juicy_ they were, he'd finally caved in and tried it. Until that moment, he hadn't known how good food could be! It was the most wonderful, delicious, awesome thing he had ever eaten in his life. When he'd excitedly told his mom about it, she'd exploded in a rage. He hadn't been allowed to eat for a day and a half after that. Worse, she'd forbidden him from spending time with 'corrupting influences' again.

His mom insisted that eating the flesh of animals was immoral. Corey figured that an animal dying meant something useful should be done with it. He'd learned not to voice that opinion, either. With a sigh, he refocused on his math, wondering what kind of sicko had introduced letters into it. 

~~~

Lunch ended up being fresh baked veggie-pita bread, made from the pulp of the morning vegetable juice, with alfalfa shoots, cucumber, and beans for filler. He'd finished all his homework and was looking forward to playing for the afternoon. His mom had gotten him an old Playstation and refused to get anything with any of the motion-sensing technology he'd begged for. She insisted he might hurt himself, and with hemophilia, that just wasn't worth the risk.

After lunch, he sat down and got as close as he could to being athletic: playing a football video game that was a few years old. It was fun, but not very rewarding. He'd sat on the sidelines watching others play his whole life. He carried around special shots of coagulant for emergencies.

He'd learned how to give them to himself, but he hated taking them. Whenever he took the shot to save his life, it felt like his bloodstream was on fire, and everything in his body would hurt. But he clotted, forming scabs, and he knew better than to pick them off.

He spent the rest of his day staving off boredom. He was safe in their small house with no sharp corners. He ate ethical foods, studied, and played quietly. Then he went to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Sundays were much like Saturdays for Corey. His mom refused to go to church, calling religion “a waste of time for the weak-minded who can't see their place as part of the world and their responsibility to preserve the natural environment for future generations.” Corey had never been outside the city, except on field trips. He thought nature was a bit over-rated and way too dangerous for comfort. There were way too many ways to get injured out there. He preferred the safety of a city.

Brandon came over that afternoon, and they played and talked about girls for a while, but he cleared out before dinner could be served. No one ever stuck around for dinner at Corey's house. Except for Corey. He was required to eat at home every night, ever since the 'dead flesh' incident.

Monday brought about little new. The girls were smoking hot; the teachers were insufferable. However, in chemistry class they had a transfer student, a guy named Blake Sanders. Blake looked like the exact opposite of Corey in every way. Where Corey was scrawny, Blake was massive. Where Corey had shaggy, dark hair, Blake had short, blond hair. Corey looked like a meek nerd, and Blake looked intimidating as hell. Worse, Blake was paired up with Corey, and it looked like Blake had a grudge against him.

Blake's first words as he sat down were, “What's a freak like you doing here?”

Corey ignored it. He'd had a couple bullies pick on him, but the threat of legal action over a bruise had sent most of them scurrying away. This guy, though, felt like he was on a whole new level of malicious. _Just ignore him, just ignore him. We'll be lab partners and get this over with._

It was in lab that Corey learned things weren't as they seemed. First of all, Blake was a genius at chemistry. Instead of Corey being one of the first ones done, he had to endure Blake asking, “What's taking you so long, retard?” as Corey worked through the equations. Then Blake shoved him aside to perform the experiments himself. Corey quickly inspected his bumped arm, but saw no sign of bruising.

He thought he was free when the class ended, but in the hall Blake cornered him. “I'll talk with you after school, kid. You're holding me back, and we need to get that fixed.”

“Sure thing, Blake,” Corey squeaked. _I hope he doesn't find me. This doesn't feel good._

The rest of the day, whenever Corey caught sight of Blake, the large teen was glaring at him. It was worst in gym class, where Blake seemed to watch Corey sitting on the sidelines during basketball practice, despite playing effectively. _Why does this guy hate me?_ Corey felt the seeds of dread twine into his stomach.

~~~

Corey's attempts to sneak out of school undetected were a miserable failure. Blake draped a heavy arm over his shoulder the instant he left the building. “Umm... Hi Blake.”

“Follow me, shrimp. We need to straighten a few things out, so you don't hold me back in chemistry.”

“I'm good at studying, that won't be a problem. I promise.” Blake was guiding him around a corner of the building, away from the sight of anyone who might rescue him. _This is not good. This is SOOO not good._

Blake shoved Corey against a brick wall and leaned in. “Do I have your attention, runt?”

“Yeah, but I should tell you I'm a hemophiliac. You could kill me if you're not careful here. I don't think you want a murder rap, you know?”

“What? So I shouldn't make an impression on your feeble brain? Is that what you're saying?”

“You have my attention! I swear it!”

“Here's how chemistry's going to go from now on. Do not question me. Do not get in my way. Just sit back and take notes, and we'll get through with flying colors. Am I clear?”

“Perfectly.”

“And so you remember this, a little pain to cement our conversation in your mind.”

Corey's eyes bugged out he saw Blake's knee come up and slam against his lower left arm. He heard a snapping noise, like a twig breaking at the same instant that pain shot through the point of impact. Looking down, he saw his arm twisting at a weird angle, and knew it was broken.

“Oh god, I'm gonna die! My shot! I need to take my shot!” Blake released him, and Corey dug into his backpack with one hand, trying to find his coagulant shot. As he pulled it out of his bag, Blake grabbed it away and threw it against the wall, shattering the tube.

“Learn well, shrimp. Do not cross me. Ever!”

Corey sank to his knees, staring in horror at the remains of the syringe. _I'm going to die here. I'm dead._ Tears slipped down his cheeks.


	3. Chapter 3

It took Corey half an hour to realize that he wasn't dead. The first, real sign that he was going to be okay was when he realized his arm wasn't flopping around anymore. _What? How?_ He lifted it up and looked at it. His arm wasn't broken. _How can this be? I should be dead, not healed._

Once he was convinced he was fine and going to live, he got to his feet again and walked home. He kept staring at his unbroken arm. _It was broken. There should have been tons of internal bleeding. I don't get it. I should be dead, not whole._

He got home before his mom, and decided to test out the healing. He got another syringe of the coagulant, and set it on the dinner table. Then he got a paring knife out of the kitchen and sat down. Carefully, he drew the knife across the palm of his hand, opening a shallow cut that wouldn't bleed fast enough to be a problem.

Out of reflex, he dropped the knife and reached for the syringe, but he restrained himself. _If this heals, then I've been lied to my whole life. If it doesn't, then something else is going on._ He felt an odd sensation in his hand, and then stared as the skin sealed itself, erasing the cut as if it had never been.

Corey stared in dumbfounded amazement at his hand for a moment. Then his eyes narrowed and shifted to the syringe. _What is this stuff?_ Corey lifted up his shirt and made a small cut on his stomach. Just like before, it soon healed itself, not even leaving a scar.

Next, he cut himself again, and immediately gave himself the shot. As usual, he felt the burning sensation in his bloodstream, and this time the cut didn't heal. The blood formed a light scab, instead. _Why? Why would mom do this to me? What's going on?_

For the first time in his life, Corey knew his mom was a liar. He put the knife and syringe away, and prepared to confront her.

~~~

“Corey, I'm home!” _Yes, mom. Just like always. You always get home at the same time, and make me a bland meal to follow up my bland lunch and bland breakfast, all in some twisted desire to keep me away from meat._

Corey looked up from where he'd been playing with a knife. He'd seen a cool scene in Aliens where one of the guys did a knife trick. They guy would stab the knife into the table between another guy's fingers at high speed. It was a cool-looking trick, and Corey had been practicing all afternoon while he waited.

*tock* *tock* *tock* *tock-tock* Corey started the pattern up. The noise instantly got his mother's attention. He saw her jaw fall open at the sight of a vegetable knife hammering down on the table between his fingers. As Corey slowly sped up the hammering, he heard a scream come out from his mom's throat. Corey hammered faster, the tip of the knife digging into the cutting board he was using to protect the table.

As he moved faster and faster, he felt something in his mind shifting, like his brain was refocusing to handle this one, dangerous task. He knew, objectively, that he was going faster and faster, yet his perception was that he wasn't. He could feel the increased stress on the muscles in his arm as it pushed the knife up and down with increasing speed, yet there was no sense that he couldn't keep up with placing it exactly where he wanted each time.

When he heard her purse hit the floor is when he slammed the knife home for the final time, releasing it, and turned to face his mom with a wide grin on his face. Time resumed its normal pace, and the scream coming from her throat began to register again. “Cool trick, huh, Mom?”

“You could have killed yourself!” she screeched. Rushing toward him to snatch the knife away from him.

“I don't see how. I mean, the first few times I missed it only grazed the bone. I don't really see how that could kill me.” _And you know it. I know you know it._

His mom looked down at his fingers, which showed no sign of having been harmed. “You're lying. Your hemophilia would kill you. Where's your coagulant?”

“I threw it out, Mom. If I had hemophilia, I'd be dead right now.” She stared at him, dumbfounded. “Seems a bully joined school today, and decided to break my arm after school, and then trashed my coagulant.” He held his 'broken' arm aloft. “Funny thing happened, I didn't die. Instead, my arm healed. Cuts do, too.” Corey glared at his mom in anger, now. “What the hell is that stuff really, Mom?”

His mother was slowly shaking her head in horror. “No. No, no, no, no, no. Not now. This can't be happening now,” she breathed.

“Mom, what's going on?”

“You have to take your shots when you get hurt. Don't you see that?”

“And draw out the pain of an injury? I don't think so.”

“You'll be found out. You can't stand out. Nobody can notice you. I'll... I'll withdraw you from school! We can homeschool you. You'll be safe. Nobody will notice.”

“Mom...,” Corey realized she wasn't paying attention to him at all. She was starting to creep him out, though. Finally, he got up and stormed at her. “MOM! What the hell is going on?” He found himself gripping the front of her blouse.

Her eyes focused on him. “You're not natural. It's your father's fault. I had to hide you. Can't you see? They'd experiment on you if they knew.”

“How'd you get the coagulant, then?”

“Your father made it. He gives it to me. I don't know how.” There was a tear trickling down her cheek. “You can't let anyone know you're different.”

“Blake will know, when my arm isn't broken tomorrow.”

His mom looked at him, and the hopeless expression on her face nearly broke his heart. _She really believes she's going to lose me._

Corey spent the rest of the evening figuring out how to make his body not heal itself. He even figured out how to make a cut bleed, and bleed, and bleed. He would protect himself. He would also make Blake leave him alone.


	4. Chapter 4

Corey went to school the next day, prepared to confront Blake and force him to conceal what had happened to his arm. Blake, however, just treated him with the same disrespect as the previous day. He showed no sign of surprise or alarm that Corey's arm was healed.

Chemistry was another round of being relegated to being Blake's 'assistant'. “We need to talk, Blake,” he finally squeezed out in a harsh whisper.

The larger boy stopped and glanced at him. “You're staying out of my way. There's nothing to talk about.”

“What about what happened yesterday?”

“Nothing happened yesterday, other than me telling you to stay out of my way. You trying to get in my way, retard?”

Corey narrowed his eyes, but didn't respond. _What's he playing at? He knows he broke my arm, but he's acting all cool, like there's nothing weird about my arm being healed today._

Corey found himself staring at Blake during gym class. The guy was blessed, not just with muscles, but also with skill. _He's holding back. It's like he wants to be good, but not too good._ Corey didn't know why he felt that way, but he let his newly acquired time sense shift, so he could take in how Blake moved.

Studying everyone in slow motion, it became obvious that he was different from the other students. There was a natural flow of muscles and bodies that every student exhibited, except for Blake. Corey's eyes zoomed in on Blake. He didn't know how, but it didn't matter. Blake's body appeared to move smoothly, but it was actually a series of very small twitches. _He's not human, either. He's different from me, but he's completely different_ _from them_ _. Maybe he knows what I am, and that's why he's not surprised._

Corey let his senses drift back to normal and resolved to confront Blake after school.

~~~

Corey had no trouble finding Blake after school. He just had to step out of the building, and a meaty arm draped over his shoulder like magic. Even more convenient, it was attached to the bully. “We need to talk,” Corey stated.

“Got nothing to talk about, other than your bad attitude. You should quit staring at me, or people will think you're falling in love.”

Corey dropped his voice to a low whisper. “You're not human.”

Blake actually scowled a bit, then dragged Corey to an isolated corner and shoved him against a wall. “Do you ever quit flapping your gums, kid? First you get in my way in chemistry, then you ogle me in gym, and now you're saying I'm not human?”

“You aren't. And you seem awfully calm about my arm not being broken, so I think you know more about what I am than I do.” Corey was talking tough, but his efforts to dislodge the larger boy were about as effective as shoving the wall behind him. Blake was unyielding.

“I don't know nothin', other than you need to learn to shut up.” Blake leaned in, grinding Corey's arm painfully against the brick wall. “Or do you need a more forceful lesson, retard?”

_Whatever he is, he's not human, so this might not work, but..._ Corey slammed his knee up against Blake's crotch in an effort to get the larger boy to back down. Corey was rewarded with a sore knee, and a deeper scowl on Blake's face.  _Oh, shit._

“That wasn't very nice.” Blake pulled back and cocked his fist, aiming it at Corey's face. “Let's see hooowww yoooouuuu...” Blake's speech seemed to slow as Corey's mind switched into high speed.

As the fist came at him, he jerked his head to the side, causing Blake's fist to smash into the wall instead. Corey then drove his own fist up into Blake's elbow several times forcing it out of the way as a look of surprise slowly crossed his face. Hitting Blake's elbow felt like hitting stone, but it was worth it as the larger boy slowly fell back, off balance, giving Corey more room to maneuver. A few punches to the chest, and Blake was stumbling back in slow motion, and Corey was able to dart out from between him and the wall.

Time returned to normal. “... Daaaaa fuuuuck did you do?” Corey noticed that there was no blood on Blake's fist where he'd hit the wall.

“Like I was saying, we're not normal. Care to enlighten me, or should I pound your face in some more?”

Blake's eyes narrowed shrewdly as he assessed Corey. “You've got more spunk than I gave you credit for. Maybe you're not a retard, just stupid.”

“I am so tired of your insults!” Corey launched at Blake, accelerating, but not before he saw Blake brace himself. Corey threw a flurry of punches at Blake's face. Every single one hurt. Worse, this time Blake didn't budge. At all. Not even his head moved in response to the punches. He was like a statue. Corey quickly gave up and fell back, letting time resume normally again.

“We're on different calibers, idiot.” Corey wasn't sure what happened next, other than Blake charged him with incredible speed, slamming his entire body against the wall again. The pain of ribs cracking stunned him. Blake then methodically broke both his arms and legs, before kicking him in the head so hard he blacked out.

When he woke up, his body was fine, and Blake was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Corey sat at home, staring at the refrigerator. _Okay, healing is good for my appetite._ So far, he had eaten both of the potatoes, three oranges, and an apple. That was an hour ago, and he was starting to get hungry again. Worse, his sense of taste was changing. He'd generally been okay with veggies in the past, but now they were almost nauseating. Potatoes, carrots, grains, and fruit were the only things that tasted decent right now, and he was starting to lose his taste for anything other than fruit.

With a shrug, he pulled out several pears and started scarfing them down, cores and all. _I have GOT to get a handle on what's happening to me. I feel like I'm missing something in my diet._ The memory of the hamburger he'd had so long ago floated through his mind, and he suddenly knew what he was craving. _Meat._

Corey ran to his bedroom and grabbed the forty bucks he had left over from his birthday money and left the house. Half an hour later he was at the Burger King, ordering a couple hamburgers and a chicken sandwich. He added a soda to the list, and sat down to eat. As he ate, a sense of peace finally began to flow through his body. _This was what I needed. Meat. Chicken or beef, it's all good._

The soda was incredibly sweet, but it seemed to do so much better than fruit at satisfying his craving for calories. Fifteen minutes later, he was back in line for two more chicken sandwiches that he ate on his way home. His body felt good again. _Have I been starving myself this whole time? For my whole life?_

It didn't occur to him he was in trouble until he got home and his mom screamed. “What have you done? You know eating meat is evil! It's immoral and unsustainable! You know that!”

Corey looked at his mom, startled, and then to the bag in his hand. “I needed meat.” _I know I should feel guilty, but I don't. “_ I was running out of food to eat, and this finally stopped the desperate hunger.” His mom's face changed from outrage to horror... _Is she afraid?_

“Never again! Do you hear me? No more meat!”

_I... I think I'm going to need it. That, or I'm going to be eating a ton of veggies from now on._ “I don't know if I can do that, Mom. You don't know what it was like to have all that food start to taste like garbage. Burgers were the only things I could think of that seemed like they'd work.”

“Beans! You know that you have to eat beans for protein!”

“I couldn't stomach them, Mom.”

“NO MORE!” she screeched, sounding hysterical.

_This is useless. She's not listening. And she's not telling me what's really going on. She doesn't want me to know._ Corey went to his bedroom for a nap. He dreamed of strolling through fields, grazing. Then he dreamed of  scratching dirt and eating bugs. 


	6. Chapter 6

When Corey snapped awake, it was one in the morning, and he was ravenous. _Why can't I stay full? What the hell is going on with me?_ He stumbled down to the kitchen in his shorts and opened the fridge. _Nothing looks appealing._ He grabbed an apple and an orange, then wandered around the kitchen, rapidly devouring the apple. When he'd eaten the entire thing, he glanced at the orange, then took a bite, skin and all. _Why do we skin these things? It's not bad, really._

He wandered through the house, appreciating the chance for a little peace and quiet. _Mom's hiding things from me. She's not a_ _vegan_ _because of some moral issue. She's afraid of me eating meat. But what's going to happen if I do?_ His stomach rapidly started complaining again. Going back to the fridge, he grabbed a bunch of celery and started stuffing his face with it, hoping the fiber would slow his appetite.

_She also hid the fact that I can heal rapidly. Instead, she tricked me into thinking any injury could kill me. She kept me away from anything that might harm me and give me away. She gave me a drug to slow down my healing to roughly normal. Where'd she get a drug like that, anyway? She said it was from my dad, but I've never met him. Mom always said she didn't know where he was. She lied about that, too._

He was halfway through the celery bunch, eating steadily, when his lower gut started to send a firm request for a number two. With a sigh, he put away the celery and went to take a dump. As soon as he was done, he was hungry again.

By the time dawn arrived, he had eaten most everything in the fridge, including the beans. He'd found a pattern, though. Carbs and sugars seemed to stick with him, but didn't last long. Anything high in fiber just flushed through him. Regardless, nothing vegan was satisfying.

He became aware of his mom when she suddenly shouted, “What the hell have you done?” Corey looked over at the refrigerator, which was open with his mom in front of it.

“I was hungry.”

“You ate EVERYTHING in the fridge!”

“I was _hungry._ ” _And everything in there was crap that wouldn't fill me up._

“What are we supposed to eat for breakfast? That food was supposed to last a week!”

The thought of going somewhere else for food flickered through his mind, and Corey smiled. “I'm going to McDonald's. See you after school!” He dashed out of the house with his school bag.

Three steak bagels later, and he finally stopped feeling hungry.


	7. Chapter 7

Corey had spent a lot of time observing people. He was less used to being observed. He was even less used to being observed with looks of confusion and furtiveness. Despite that, people at school were looking at him out of the corner of their eyes, pretending they weren't looking at him. By the time he was ready to go to his first class, he knew something was up.

He quickly slipped into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. All he saw in the mirror was himself. It wasn't until he turned to leave that he saw it. He was moving differently. Slowly, Corey turned back to the mirror, and this time he could see it. He wasn't any larger than before, but there was definition to his muscles he hadn't seen before. He didn't look... scrawny, just slim.

As he turned to leave once again, he saw the other thing that was getting him looks. He was moving differently for another reason. He wasn't moving like a timid kid. He was moving with purpose and conviction. _I'm not the same, weak kid I was yesterday. But all I did was eat some meat and everything in the house last night._

The only person who didn't react differently was Blake. As far as Blake was concerned, he was still... “One side, idiot.” ...an idiot. At least Corey was getting top chemistry grades for his abuse.

Lunch was where Corey did something truly out of character. He got three of the BBQ “pressed pork rib” sandwiches. After the first bite, he had only two thoughts. _Pork is delicious! Why would anyone refuse to eat this stuff?_ After that, he inhaled all three sandwiches while those who were used to seeing him barely eat a pita-veggie sandwich for lunch stared at him.

By the time gym class rolled around, he was feeling strange, lethargic. He sat down on the bleachers, and quickly fell asleep. His dreams were odd. He was pressing through bushes, eating whatever came under his nose. Something squealed in front of him, and warm blood dripped over his tongue and down his throat, followed by a small, warm, fuzzy body that he crushed in his teeth a few times. It was followed by sweet berries and leaves.

A buzzer sounding jerked Corey awake, with the memory of blood on his tongue. It refused to leave his mind. _What the hell was that about? Blood? And why... why do I want to taste it again?_ The dream haunted him for the rest of the day, dragging his focus away from classes.

Finally, as he was stepping out of the building, a familiar, heavy arm draped itself over his shoulder. “Really, Blake? Again?”

“You're drawing attention to yourself, idiot. Don't you know better than that?” Corey tried to duck out of the larger boy's grip, but failed. “Come, let's talk a bit.”

Corey was familiar with the little corner he found himself in, yet again. “Blake, can we stop with the whole 'you break every bone in my body and I heal right away' routine? It's getting old.”

“You don't get it. I'm your buddy. I'm looking out for you.” Blake gave him a slow, appraising look. “How much did you eat last night, idiot?”

_How does he know?_ “Everything in the house. Every last veggie mom has.” 

“What else did you eat?”

_Huh?_ “A couple burgers and chicken sandwiches last night, and some steak bagels this morning.”

“And you had that fake-pork stuff for lunch.” For once, Blake looked thoughtful instead of abusive. Suddenly, he charged at Corey. Corey slowed time a little, ducked down, and grabbed Blake's legs. He then snapped his own legs up and forward, lifting Blake off the ground and sending him flying back and away.

Time resumed normal in time for him to hear a satisfying “oof” as Blake hit the ground. “Leave me alone, Blake. I'm not in the mood.”

As Blake scrambled back to his feet, though, there was a grin on his face that suggested that it wouldn't be that simple. “You still haven't learned your lesson. Looks like the pork wasn't all fake, though.”

“Huh?”

“The pork. It wasn't all fake.” _What the hell does that mean?_ “Okay, let's get some food in us before your mom tries to starve you again. My treat.” Corey's eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Your dad's not happy about how you've been raised. Wanted me to pass on a few tips to you.”

_WHAT THE HELL?_ Corey followed him  warily ,  hoping he would finally get some answers .

~~~

So it turned out Blake came from a rich family. Camaro for the kid, rich. Gold Mastercard for the kid, rich. Corey was in shock. Actually, Corey was sitting in an upscale restaurant that served strange foods. They had started off with rattlesnake kabobs. Then they'd had alligator steaks. Now Corey was working on a Kodiak Burger with boar bacon.

“Okay, why is it I can still eat? I stopped being hungry a long time ago.”

“Because you're built to eat. And because you ate the rattlesnake first.” Corey gave Blake a blank look. Blake ignored it and asked, “Had any strange dreams, lately?”

“I had one about roaming in fields, and after lunch I fell asleep and dreamed of eating an animal raw. Oh, and last night I dreamed about eating bugs.”

“You're gonna have some mighty wild dreams tonight, then. Eating rats, swimming, killing an elk, stuff like that.”

Corey processed the prediction. “What I eat controls what I dream?”

“What you eat gives you information. Dreams help you process it for use, at least for now.”

“Why do you know so much about what's happening to me?” _First he's bullying me, now he's buying me almost everything on the menu. What the hell?_

“Because I'm doing your dad a favor.”

“Yeah, about that, isn't he the one that gave me drugs to scramble up my healing?”

“Of course. You were too young to function properly, and kids spout off information without understanding the consequences. You're old enough to know what could happen if people know you're strange, now.”

They stopped talking when the waiter came back, eying them suspiciously. Blake just ordered a round of oyster sliders and chocolate-covered fire ants without batting an eye. The waiter left, muttering something about “teen-aged boys and their appetites.”

Blake looked back at Corey. “This is the last round. Then we go home, and I have a talk with your mom while you sleep off the meal.”

“How am I supposed to digest all this?” Corey's stomach was visibly bloated from all the food.

“You'll be ready for breakfast in the morning, I promise.”

“Okay, then how do you know my dad? Why would he ask you for a favor?”

Blake made a sour face. “Because I owe him. It's taken him two hundred years to give me the chance to pay him back, and I'm fucking taking it. You don't need to know the details. It's none of your damned business.”

“Well, why not take care of this himself?”

“Because, as you are right now, he'd probably eat you.” Blake made the statement so calmly and matter-of-factly that Corey could only stare, dumbfounded.


	8. Chapter 8

Corey didn't actually end up sleeping. He just sort of collapsed on the couch and dozed while Blake played video games. Blake was really bad at them. When his mom finally got home, she asked, “Corey, who's your friend?” As her eyes fell to him, however, her expression fell.

“This is Blake. He broke my arm three days ago, and broke a ton of bones yesterday. He says he has a message from Dad.” His mom's face went white as she slowly turned her face back to Blake.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

Blake set down the controller and stood. “You can call me Blake. Gregor won't be sending any more suppressants. It's time you start training Corey properly.”

Her head shook slightly. “I can't do that. You know I can't. He just needs to be a normal boy. That's all.”

“I took him to eat at Heart of the Wild today.” Corey's mom gasped, her face going slack, and even paler. “We're a little beyond the stage where he can be normal.”

Corey watched as Blake took two steps towards his mom. With each step, his features changed. His skin became hard and angular, and his eyes disappeared, replaced by tongues of flame. Suddenly, he looked like a rough-hewn statue that was moving. He spoke once more. “It's time to train him, Elenore. Your time's up.”

Blake fell apart into a swirl of dust that disappeared without a trace. A moment later, the sound of his Camaro firing up could be heard, and it drove away.

A soft whisper brought his attention fully to his mom. “What did you eat?” There was no anger in her voice, now. No indignation. It sounded more like resignation threaded with horror.

“Rattlesnake kabobs, alligator steaks, and a Kodiak Burger.”

His mom nodded slightly. “It's too late, then. It was probably always too late. I couldn't keep you away from meat forever, could I?”

“What's wrong, mom?”

“I'm losing my little boy. Now I have to train a monster.” She picked up the phone while he gave her a confused look. “This is Elenore Perkins, Corey's mother. He's got a high fever and is throwing up. He won't be in school tomorrow.” She hung up the phone and dialed again. “Hey Charlie, I know you were counting on finishing the project tomorrow, but I've got a fever and just lost my dinner. I doubt I'll be in tomorrow. Janice should be able to help you get things wrapped up, though.”

She hung up the phone once again and stared at Corey. “Go to bed. We'll start training you tomorrow.” The sorrowful, horrified, resigned voice spread more terror in Corey than all her rants about being a vegan combined.


	9. Chapter 9

Corey woke from dreams much like he'd been promised. Smelling with flicks of his tongue, thrashing through murky water, eating fresh honey as bees protested futily, being irritated by a lonely grain of sand. His stomach was no longer bloated. He felt no need to use the bathroom, either. Rising carefully, his body felt... off.

It was a glance in the mirror that showed him the change. Every single muscle in his body was larger. Yesterday, he'd been a scrawny kid. This morning, he had solid, toned muscles. His body felt lighter, more responsive. It also moved differently, though he wasn't sure how to describe it.

Once he was cleaned up and dressed he went downstairs, unsure of what his mom was planning for their day off. In the kitchen, instead of the usual grinding of vegetables dying, there was a large skillet and an empty carton of eggs. Soon he saw that his breakfast was a dozen scrambled eggs. While he ate in bemused silence, his mom made her breakfast of fresh vegetable juice and an apple.

“Okay, what's going on, Mom?” he asked around a mouthful of delicious eggs.

“You're not human.” He looked at her, confused. There was no expression in her voice. There was no expression on her face.

“Come again?”

“You're the child of a monster, and you are a monster, yourself. I've tried to keep you away from that, but then that... thing... forced you to heal yourself properly. He forced you to eat meat. He fed you carnivores. And now, you're a monster, too.”

It was the sort of speech that should have been laced with emotion. There should have been pain, disappointment, a touch of horror. Instead, it was completely flat. Her lack of emotion was more unnerving than the words she was saying.

“How long have you known?”

“Ever since the man I was fucking turned into a fucking giant wolf and stayed in me for an hour. Ever since he pulled out and threatened to kill me if I even thought about having an abortion. Ever since he threatened your pediatrician and gave me strange drugs to suppress your most basic abilities. I've always known.” There was finally a trace of bitterness.

“What am I, Mom?”

“Whatever you eat. Whatever you have the mass to support. You're a rattlesnake, a pig, a cow, a chicken, an alligator, a bear. You're based on a human, but I don't know how long that will last.”

Corey stared at her. If he hadn't already done strange things, he'd be tempted to laugh at her. But he'd gained pounds of muscle overnight. He'd eaten an impossible amount of food, and now it was in his body as muscle.

“So what am I supposed to be training as?”

“Being what you've eaten. Your fingernails can be the claws of a bear. Your teeth can be the tusks of a boar. You can have thick fur over your entire body. You can produce deadly toxins. You just need to figure out how to do it.”

His loving mother, who had made breakfast for him every day, calmly put away her breakfast and picked up a bat he hadn't noticed before. “Defend yourself!” The bat smashed down on his hands, shattering the bones in his fingers.

Thus began a day filled with pain, as his once loving mother beat him with a bat all morning long.

~~~

_What is she, a ninja?_ This was the thought in Corey's head as he sat eying his mother warily over their lunch. Corey was eating a goat and lamb stew. His mom was eating a pita sandwich. 

He had spent the morning learning to defend himself from a woman who resembled his loving mother, but had used the bat to devastating effect. He'd had to turn his hands into hooves before she'd stopped destroying his fingers with every swing. Then she'd taken to swinging at his legs, snapping them repeatedly until he formed enough cushioning to protect them from the blows. Then it had been his arms. Through all that, his ability to slow time had seemed to do no good. He could only partially dodge her swings. He had finally caught the bat and snapped it in half right before lunch.

“Why are you doing this, Mom?”

“Because, against my better judgment, I want my son to live.”

“Why didn't you train me from the beginning?”

“I thought I could keep you human.” Her expression was still blank.

“How did you learn to fight like this?”

“I've been training every day since you were born.” There was a hint of bitterness in her voice.

When they finished eating, she put away the dishes and returned with a new bat. This one was aluminum and was swinging at his head. The impact left him momentarily stunned, but he quickly scrambled away as she brought it in for another hit.

Unlike the morning, when all he'd been able to do was heal, he now understood what he needed to do.  _Reinforce my skull, take the hits and keep going._ The new DNA in his stomach opened itself to him, and he felt the horns curl around his skull, protecting it from every angle. He took the third hit head on, his neck absorbing the shock. With the fourth hit, he grabbed the bat as soon as it stopped moving on top of his head and ripped it from her grasp.

“ENOUGH! I'm tired of you hitting me!”

His mom silently pulled out a gun and shot him in the stomach. While the pain lanced through him, she fired two more shots into his chest.  _Holy fucking shit this hurts!_ He could feel the insane pain ripping through his body.

“Those bullets are designed to fragment in your body,” she calmly informed him. “You should start experiencing internal hemorrhaging shortly.”

H e could feel the irritating bits of metal throughout his body.  _Isolate it, expel it._ He scrambled away from his psychotic mother as she took aim at him once again. His body starting healing the gaps. He was aware of solid, foreign lumps in his body that rapidly stopped tearing at him.

A shot barely missed him.  _Armor._ With that thought, plates began to form over his body while he hid behind a wall. His mom came around a corner and started firing. This time, the bullets hit plates that shattered, but also shredded the bullets, sending shrapnel back at his assailant.

She stopped firing, popped out the clip, and put in a new one. She started firing again, bullets ripping through his flesh once again. “Armor piercing rounds. High velocity,” she intoned as she sent bullets flying into his torso once again.

Soon the bullets stopped penetrating again, as he used thick hide above and below the plates to stop them. Finally impregnable, he charged her, taking away the offending firearm. With a glare, Corey concentrated, and then threw up a few dozen irregularly shaped pearls. “Have your shrapnel back, Mom.”

Instead of picking them up, she instead reached behind her back and held up a new assault: a mirror. Corey could barely recognize the creature that looked back at him. Ram horns curled around his skull, which was misshapen with tight features. His skin was dark and thick, with ridges that slid over each other beneath it. His chest was broad, heaving like a bellows with every deep breath. Glancing down, his fingers were stubby with sharp little hooves at each tip. His legs were twisted unnaturally and his feet had odd pads with claws that had left ruts in the wood flooring.

“What am I?” His voice was laced with shock.

“You are a monster.” Her other arm came forward, aiming a knitting needle at his right eye. Pain lanced through him as it stabbed forward, ruining his eye and sinking deep into his skull. Corey passed out.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Corey returned to consciousness with pain still shooting through his destroyed eye socket. His good, left eye could see the end of the knitting needle jutting forward from his face. With a shaky, mutated hand, he reached up and drew the needle out of his head, the sound of metal on bone grinding in his ears. He nearly passed out from the pain. Once it was removed, however, the pain rapidly began to recede.

He waited for the pain to vanish completely, while he listened to the sounds in the house. His mom was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables. The neighbor's dog was barking outside. Inhaling deeply, he could smell cooking seafood. _Seafood?_ Finally, he was down to an itching in his right eye, and he began to see through it again.

Corey levered himself up and concentrated, shifting his body back to a basically human form. As he stepped into the kitchen with his psychotic mother, she turned and eyed him. “That took longer than I expected. If you're passed out, you can be killed.” She turned her back to him and resumed chopping vegetables.

_What have I gotten myself into?_ He looked into the pot and recoiled when he saw tentacles curled inside the hot liquid. “What's this?”

“You'll be eating octopus and crab. They're almost done.” He eyed his mom warily, then went to sit at the table.

Sure enough, he was soon served a large crab with octopus tentacles around it. His attempts to chew the octopus were, at first, ineffective. Suddenly, he enlarged his throat and just swallowed them one by one, not bothering to chew at all.

Next was the crab, which she had served without any fork, hammer, or anything else. His initial attempt at forcing it open with his hands was an utter failure. Then he shifted his jaws, and simply bit into the creature, shattering the shell and grinding it up, along with the tender flesh.

_This isn't how you're supposed to eat crab and octopus. I know that much. What's she doing?_ His thought was interrupted when a searing pain hit his shoulder. His mom had stabbed him with a vegetable knife. “What the hell?”

“Defend yourself!” Unlike before, there was a fire in her eyes. He could see that something had snapped inside her mind, even as she came at him with two knives, slicing and chopping at him.

Her assault was short-lived. Armoring his skin let him grab her wrists with little danger. Despite having her restrained, she twisted and struggled, holding fast to the knives. He meant to just squeeze enough to force her to drop the knives, but instead he heard a sickening, cracking noise.

The knives dropped as his mother's wrists disintegrated under his grip, her hands flopping uselessly. “Mom! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you!”

“There's only one lesson left.” Her voice had a touch of sorrow in it. He wasn't sure what was happening, but then he heard a soft cracking sound.

“Mom?”

She slowly smiled, fervor lighting her eyes once more. “Eat me.” His mom fell over, dead.

~~~

Two hours later, Corey was still staring at his mother's body. There was a part of him that saw carrion before him, carrion that would fuel his body wonderfully. The other part knew this was his mom, a woman who had cared for him for years.

Blake's voice was the first warning that the bully was back. Unlike before, however, his voice was gentle. “You have to eat her, Corey. If there's a body, too many questions will be raised.”

“If she just disappears, there will be an investigation, too. A missing person case is usually a big deal.”

“Not as big a deal as murder. Not as big a deal as a woman who had a cyanide capsule in her back tooth suddenly using it on a day when she called in sick for herself and her healthy son. You don't want an investigation into you.”

“Won't the cyanide kill me, too?”

“Poisons can't harm you, Corey. Eat up.” Blake calmly approached the corpse and extruded metal blades from his arms. In moments, he had chopped her body into several pieces, completely dismembering her. He tossed her head into Corey's lap. “Eat.”

Closing his eyes, he let his senses shift to those of an alligator. He smelled food. Extending his jaws, dislocating them, he swallowed the food, not thinking about what he was doing. He refused to think about what he was doing as he swallowed the large mass. He refused to consider what he'd done as the last of her hair slipped down his throat to follow the mass in his stomach.

His brain went haywire as his stomach rapidly absorbed its contents. Images of him as a child flashed through his mind. Images of a naked man changing to a wolf as pleasure slammed through his/her body. The feel of the man slipping vials of fluid into her hand in a dark alley. Image after image, memory after memory slammed into his mind, until one settled prominently.

“ _Don't harm my son, Elenore. You don't want to make me angry. Protect him from learning his heritage until he's old enough to control it. No meat. Do you understand me?”_

_She nodded fearfully, eying the creature that had impregnated her._

“ _If you abort him, I will destroy everyone you love. Your family, friends, coworkers, everyone will disappear. Am I clear?”_

_She nodded again, hopelessness crawling through her._

“ _Good, then I will provide for you. When you finish your task, you'll be free to do as you wish. Understand?”_

_She nodded again._

The memory was replaced with another, a vision of Corey as he'd seen himself in the mirror two hours ago.

_I've raised a monster. I've cursed the world with another one._ There was hopelessness in the thought, right before she bit down hard.

Corey's awareness returned to the present, where he felt fingers sliding over his tongue and down his throat. Most of his mom's body was now gone. Blake had been feeding him while his consciousness was overwhelmed. His mom's torso looked smaller. The room looked smaller.

“Finish up, Corey, and then we'll plan for the rest of your life.”

Corey allowed himself to be fed the last of his mother's body, as self-revulsion swept through his mind.  _I'm a monster. My mom had no use for me. My father was a monster that blackmailed her into raising me. My father is a monster that made this... thing... awaken me._

_I just ate my mom. I'm a cannibal._


	11. Chapter 11

When Blake had finished teaching Corey how to compress his mass to fit into something close to his old form, the bully left. “You'll need to file a missing person's report tomorrow when you get back from school. You'll understand better, then.”

_Whatever._ Corey settled for going to sleep, his dense bones and compacted muscle forcing the bed to compress far more than he was used to. Waking the next morning, he went downstairs and turned on the Veggie-matic to make his juice, as normal. He was at half a glass before he stopped abruptly. 

_I don't make the juice, Mom does, or did._ Running his thoughts back over everything, he became aware that his memories were strangely muddled. There were his own experiences, but also his mom's. Those felt just as real and 'his' as his own.

He stopped making juice, and instead made the bacon and eggs his mom had secretly craved for sixteen years, but denied herself to prevent her son from having the DNA to start changing. She'd found the vegetables as unsatisfying as he had.  _She was protecting me?_

As he headed out for school, another set of ingrained patterns tugged him towards what appeared to be an office building. Inside, he would have found a gym that specialized in teaching women self-defense and various martial arts. That was where his mom taught classes he never knew about, instead of working as a secretary. She had trained her body ruthlessly every day for sixteen years, in preparation for when she would have to teach him how to fight and defend himself.

Walking into the school building, he found himself instinctively performing the threat assessments his mother had done constantly, ever since he was born. His body knew how to attack, disable, and kill. With his ability to alter his natural weapons, he would need to adapt those instincts, but they were a good start.

Lessons were suddenly trivial. His mom had graduated college with honors. She knew this material well. Suddenly, gym was the only interesting class, where he could carefully watch the movements of the players with the eyes of a warrior and a hunter. There was no question who he would kill first, second and third. First would be the girl who kept dropping the ball. She was slow, easily taken down. Second was the large boy who would probably attack to defend her. Third was the teacher, full of muscles but further from the action.

Corey retracted the claws that had started to slip out as he thought of slaughtering his classmates.  _No, it's too dangerous. Humans in groups could cause problems. Stay hidden in plain sight, hunt where humans don't venture._

A few moments later,  _When did I become comfortable with not being human?_ He thought on this, and realized it was old knowledge from his mother. She'd always known he was something else. Her father had given her supplies and guidance over the years in secret, while directing her to the doctor who would make blood samples disappear, and replace vaccines with saline solutions.

His father never looked the same twice, but she always knew it was him. He watched his son from a distance, and cared for him through Elenore, Corey's mom. His mom had committed suicide to protect the rest of her family. She had three brothers and two sisters that Corey had never heard of. They were the insurance to keep her in line and raise the monster. Her last act of obedience was to feed him the knowledge to understand.

There would be a missing person's report. Corey would go into foster care for a couple years. He would be adopted by a country family that would give him access to woodlands to hunt and learn. When he finished high school, he would leave to mature as a monster. He would survive in the wild before he came back to study at college.

_My life has been planned out for me. But why study at college? Why learn human knowledge?_ He knew the answer as soon as he thought it. His father had told her. He remembered the explanation.

'He must know human ways to avoid human detection. He must understand what they are and how they think. Humans and us are like tigers and wolves. A tiger is far greater than a single wolf, but a pack of wolves can take down a tiger. Of all the creatures out there, he need only fear humans.'

Corey nodded to himself.  _I have eaten my last human. They are too dangerous to hunt. When the deer lose a member, they soon forget. When humans lose a member, they sniff around like dogs. I must not get their attention. I will hunt carefully._

Corey smiled to himself, looking forward to the next few years of his life for the first time.

 

_fin_


End file.
